Arms
by West26058
Summary: When Arthurs 'perfect' wedding goes wrong, will he be able to get back up on his feet? Are the others able to comfort him with opening arms? Arthur undergoes his traumas and faces society. Will he handle it well? Read story to find out!
1. Chapter 1

" I, Arthur Kirkland, take the, Alfred Jones, to be my lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, to love, to cherish, and to obey, till death do us part." Since the day I aw this american idiot, I have been waiting for those words to come out of my mouth. We were finally going to get married. As I waited for him to saw his vows, I starred of into the crowd. Francis was sobbing next to Matthew, who was gently patting him on the head. Ivan and Yao were sitting calmly, which was weird in my point of view, The axis powers were strangely quiet, probably because Veneciano was told that if he didn't keep quiet he wouldn't get pasta. Romano and Antonio were quarreling about who knows what. The others seemed relatively in silence. I looked back at Alfred who still was just standing there looking nervous. I waited a few second for him to saw something but he stood thee like the git he was.

"Alfred…say your line!" I said in a hushed tone. I actually was a bit worried. I flushed in embarrassment and looked back at the crowd. Some talked amongst each other, some looked confused. I took a glance at Alfred. He was sweating, his eyes lingered around the sanctuary. His body was stiff, almost…hesitant. "Alfred…are you okay?" I could feel my heart waver. He shut his eyes slowly and stole a quick glance at me and gave me a bear hug. "I'm sorry Arthur, but I can't marry you. My eyes began to water. "What do you mean?" He let me go and held my hands. For what seemed like an eternity was only a few seconds. He skeptically kissed my cheek and walked down the aisle. I felt a piece of paper between my fingers. It was folded, it had a tinted color of brown. I unraveled the note and read the six absurd woods:

_'I don't like to be judged.'_

I silently gasped and looked in the direct where Alfred was mysteriously standing. He was about four feet away from the exit while I was now at the end of the aisle. He was looking down, with his arms at his sides. Tears running down my embarrassed beet red face. I finally got to the idea he wanted me to get across to. "Alfred F. Jones! If you really love me you wouldn't care what society said!" the audience were chattering in a surprised manner. My fist bawled up, shaking with anger. I wiped my tears to have a clear look at him. He lifted his head and lightly said, "If you only knew." He then continued out the door. Before I knew it, I heard my name being called, foot steps coming from all directions. I was outside with my nose dripping with snot and my eyes blotching with tears. With my legs going numb I fell to the concrete to find a silver ring resting on the ground.

_He left me…_I have always known I would never get a happily ever after. Lyrics of a long forgotten song echoed in my head.

_'Will we ever be together?_

_No I think not, it's never to become…_

_For I am not the one.'_

**OMGXD it's so short! This story had just popped in my head when I was listening to 'Sally song', I don't know if I should continue, so tell me what you think about it**


	2. Chapter 2

The day of the wedding was the worst day of Arthur Kirkland's' life. Despite his childhood years, he felt terribly heart broken. With his sober-self, he lunged his bony body on his lonely bed. It was 2:17 a.m. in the morning. In four hours he would have to get up and get ready for the world meeting. All the while he couldn't help but to think about the day of the wedding.

_Arthur crashed to the hard wet cement. The skies had turned grey and it had began to rain. He had spotted a ring on the edge of the sidewalk. It had a name imprinted on it. 'Alfred'. The englishmen read on the round silver ring. All his life he had wished for something happy to emerge into his life. The abusive attacks he had to tolerate from hid older brother, the name-calling and the bullies that would bother him nonstop throughout middle school and high school. _

_"Arthur! Are you okay?" Doors were slung open, and a french accent bursted out. Several footsteps followed after. "..Arthur?" The frenchman stepped closer to the brit. He hesitated for a moment, taking of his coat and wrapping it around the other gentlemen's body, he lifted him up and turned towards the others. Sniffling and hushed breathes were the only noises heard among the fellow companions. _

_"Francis, is he going to be alright?" A small bot in a blue sailors uniform asked, he had Arthurs eyebrows and sandy blonde hair. _

_Francis looked down at the young boy, he didn't know what to say to him. "Francis, maybe we should head home. Until then keep an eye on Alfred." A man with a heavy german accent waved a hand and walked away. "Maybe it's best if we keep close contact till the next world meeting, Da?" Ivan Braginski, a close friend of Alfred, gave Francis his number and was on his way. Other members told Francis goodbye, and told him to keep Arthur safe and keep him in good condition. Francis on the other hand, not feeling like his usual self, he carried the heart broken brit ti his car. _

The only thing Arthur remembers is waking up in his bedroom with a note stuff to his forehead. He took the note off and read it. '_ If you need someone to talk to you know who to call.' _He could tell right away who it was. He was the only one who could by just looking at his hand writing. He took a moment to remember to call the frenchman later that week.

Making his way to the bathroom, his eyes were swelling and puffy with redness. They felt itchy and sore. Red vains could be seen at the corners of his eyes. Washing and rinsing away, he still felt a breeze of melancholy drift over him. He could still see the happiness in the americans eyes when they would walk along the park sidewalk and talk about there favorite pass times or tell cheezy jokes to one another. _If he didn't want to be with me, why did he go out with me in the first place? Sometimes, I never understood that crazy yankee._

The steam of freshly brewed tea, and aroma of fresh, non-burned, blueberry scones were sitting on the countertop, ready to be devoured by a living creature. Arthur took of his burning oven gloves and apron, which had the words,'Hail Britannia', imprinted on it. He gathered a cup of tea, blueberry scone, and a thick chapter book he had been dying to read.

Several minutes passed by and Arthur was still on page one. He could not concentrate. He was too busy thinking about that American. There was so many questions to ask him. He wanted o know why he left, why he changed his ming, why he left him, and most importantly, Did he love him? Deep in thought, his phone rang with an obnoxious ringtone that nobody could miss.

"What the bloody hell do you want Frog?"

"Arthur we nee to talk." The brit never heard Francis talk so serious. Well, unless you count the time when he had lost his hair due to stress from no sex for a month.( They were seriously drunk and playing truth or dare)

"...okay, when?" Arthur was a tad nervous for his response.

"Right now, I'm on my way to your house. With a guest."

Arthur was angery. He didn't want anyone to come visit except Francis for the time being.

"Francis, who the hell is it? "

"Alfred."

Arthur through his phone across the room and flipped his coffee table over, knocking a flower vase off and sending it to pieces. "DAMN YOU ALFRED F. JONES!" With that said, he huddled up in his couch, trying to make himself cry tears if he had any left.

"Usually when people are sad, they don't do anything. They just cry over their condition. But when they get angry, they bring about a change."

**Holy freaking s#$. that took forever to write! I know I haven't updated alot on this story, i have writers block. **

**Anyways, this weak I was going through my messages on Deviant art, and i saw this picture that rally caught my eyes. It was a picture of Alfred and Arthur. But they were colored diffrent! So i found out they were called "2p" and now i am stuck listening to the song: "There coming to take me away"**


	3. Chapter 3

The thought of Alfred coming over was outrageous. I didn't want Francis to come to my house and force me to talk to him. He just didn't know what I was feeling. Nobody knew what I was feeling. Nobody understood me. No one did ever care about me. I was all alone. I was the black rose in the red field.*I was the unwanted toy in the children's treasures chest. I was the stain on your soccer shirt that needed to be cleaned.

Who am I?

I'm nobody.*

* * *

><p>I was rapped in my blankets on my couch when I heard a knock at the door. I sighed and slowly walked to the door. I wasn't sure if I should have opened the door or not. Was Francis on the other side with Alfred?<p>

"Hello, Arthur? Are you there?" A russian accent was on the other side of the door. I let all the stress leave me and opened the door to Ivan. "Hello Ivan, why are you here?" I gestured him to come in and sit. I got tense and sat on the couch across from it.

"Have you been crying? Are you scared?" I was surprised that he had gone directly to questioning me. Instead of answering him I went on to a different subject. "H-hows the weather i Russia? Cold?" I chuckled nervously and smiled. I wasn't one for making jokes. He stared at me with his violet eyes. He was so...calm. He was able to control his emotions. "You don't want to play games with me." He had that aura that made me feel a bit nauseous. "Um, well..." I told him about how I have been and what I was feeling. I was never close to Ivan but he was a really nice guy. He listened to me talk and cry throughout his visiting. He continued to come every wednesday of the week. He would sometimes spend the night and bring Yao with him. But he could tell I was still lonely. He could tell I wasn't happy. Even with company, I was still a lonely soul. The day Francis was supposed to come over, he never showed up, nor did he call.

* * *

><p><em>Would you just listen and please don't say a word, just yet,<em>  
><em>I'd like you to think back to the very first time we met,<em>  
><em>How you felt around me? The memories we shared,<em>  
><em>And just remember that once upon a time, you really cared.<em>

_Tweeted be Alfred F. Jones_

I read a strip of a tweet from my twitter page. The words echoed in my head as I read them over and over. They were from a poem but I just couldn't remember. The past few weeks had been socializing with Wang Yao and Ivan Braginski. Sure they kept my mind of Alfred, but...I couldn't escape that. Not ever. Part of me wanted to see him, but the other wanted to tell him off and just be alone in a secluded corner.

What do I do?


	4. Chapter 4

The thought of Alfred coming over was outrageous. I didn't want Francis to come to my house and force me to talk to him. He just didn't know what I was feeling. Nobody knew what I was feeling. Nobody understood me. No one did ever care about me. I was all alone. I was the black rose in the red field.*I was the unwanted toy in the children's treasures chest. I was the stain on your soccer shirt that needed to be cleaned.

Who am I?

I'm nobody.*

* * *

><p>I was rapped in my blankets on my couch when I heard a knock at the door. I sighed and slowly walked to the door. I wasn't sure if I should have opened the door or not. Was Francis on the other side with Alfred?<p>

"Hello, Arthur? Are you there?" A russian accent was on the other side of the door. I let all the stress leave me and opened the door to Ivan. "Hello Ivan, why are you here?" I gestured him to come in and sit. I got tense and sat on the couch across from it.

"Have you been crying? Are you scared?" I was surprised that he had gone directly to questioning me. Instead of answering him I went on to a different subject. "H-hows the weather i Russia? Cold?" I chuckled nervously and smiled. I wasn't one for making jokes. He stared at me with his violet eyes. He was so...calm. He was able to control his emotions. "You don't want to play games with me." He had that aura that made me feel a bit nauseous. "Um, well..." I told him about how I have been and what I was feeling. I was never close to Ivan but he was a really nice guy. He listened to me talk and cry throughout his visiting. He continued to come every wednesday of the week. He would sometimes spend the night and bring Yao with him. But he could tell I was still lonely. He could tell I wasn't happy. Even with company, I was still a lonely soul. The day Francis was supposed to come over, he never showed up, nor did he call.

* * *

><p><em>Would you just listen and please don't say a word, just yet,<em>  
><em>I'd like you to think back to the very first time we met,<em>  
><em>How you felt around me? The memories we shared,<em>  
><em>And just remember that once upon a time, you really cared.<em>

_Tweeted be Alfred F. Jones_

I read a strip of a tweet from my twitter page. The words echoed in my head as I read them over and over. They were from a poem but I just couldn't remember. The past few weeks had been socializing with Wang Yao and Ivan Braginski. Sure they kept my mind of Alfred, but...I couldn't escape that. Not ever. Part of me wanted to see him, but the other wanted to tell him off and just be alone in a secluded corner.

What do I do?

**Sorry that this chapter is sooo short but I have to study for finals and I have to study and I wanted to get this chapter in before I got to busy!**

**So when school ends I might be taking request, so any request?**


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